


No Dominion

by Diamondmask



Series: Promises and Scars [6]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Afterlife, Aftermath, Angst, Arthurian, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Love, M/M, sadfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-05
Updated: 2013-01-05
Packaged: 2017-11-23 18:16:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/625189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diamondmask/pseuds/Diamondmask
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Choices are important. Arthur has learned that and now he is faced with more. <br/>A trial for sorcery forces Arthur into a choice - stay loyal to his father and king or challenge him. <br/>His choice gives him what he wants but has a great price and Arthur must choose how he lives  with the consequences and what happens after</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tell me it's not true

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for Major character death. This is sad but not dark.

There had only been one trial for sorcery since Merlin’s return, a man who had used magic to lure children to him. Even Merlin had not objected to his sentence. But this was different. Arthur stood in the Great Hall: across the room he could see Merlin’s face, pale and strained, but trusting. Uther droned on, given his ‘reasons’ why magic must die while the sorcerer stood alone in the centre of the Hall. 

She was tiny, about five years old, carrying a poppet made of twisted straw. Her dirty face was streaked with tears as she stood, not understanding anything that was going on, just knowing that people were shouting at her and her parents weren’t around. 

Arthur looked at her and felt a sharp pang for lost Rosie.

He knew he did not support the law. He had after all been hiding a warlock in his bed for more than a year. But in public he was loyal to the laws of Camelot. Once before he had chosen to uphold the law and sacrifice the individual but, as he stood in the Great Hall with Merlin’s eyes fixed on him, he wondered how many times can you do that before you sacrifice all? When does sacrificing the individual for the greater good become sacrificing good for the great? 

He decided.

“Prove it” he said, stepping into the centre of the Hall. 

The king stopped speaking and looked at his son in confusion. The man standing before him no longer resembled the boy he had trained to be his successor. Arthur’s face showed the signs of painful lessons learned and his eyes shone with both defiance and compassion. Where had he gone wrong? Uther wondered.

“What is this?” he said  
“I said prove it” said Arthur. “You say she is evil, I say prove it”   
“You are insubordinate! I will have you flogged if you persist!” the King said seething.   
“That will prove something about you, but not about her” Arthur tried to keep his voice level. “I say again, prove that she is evil.”  
“She has magic!” the king said loudly. This was ridiculous, arguing in front of the Court. 

“Magic is as it is used” said Arthur calmly (though his heart was racing at the fury in his father’s face) “Prove to me that she used it for evil. The witness spoke that she lifted a heavy bucket with a spell. Prove that was evil” 

“Proof is not needed” the King’s voice was full of anger “It is the Law”

“You made the law, justify it” Arthur replied. He looked around at the faces of the Court. Many were shocked, some hostile, some impassive, few friendly. Fate had betrayed him. Only four of *his* knights were in Camelot, the rest were on patrol. He would be alone. 

In the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of dark hair and pale skin beside him. Or not alone. Abstractedly he wondered if Merlin had levitated from the other half of the Hall to be at his side so quickly. His reverie took only a second.

The King was speaking.  
“I am King, I do not justify my law”.  
“It is the duty of a King to protect his people” Arthur said, looking straight at his father. “Is she not one of your people?”   
“She is what I am protecting them against” the King blustered.

At that moment the ‘Sorceror’ put her thumb in her mouth and began to wail. Arthur merely raised an eyebrow and was gratified to hear a tiny ripple of laughter run through the Hall. 

“Enough of this nonsense” the King roared. “I am your King and you will submit to my Law, my will” 

 

There was a meditative expression on Arthur’s face as all the possible futures played out in his mind. His choices now, his next words, would determine the fate of Camelot. He wished that this had not happened; but then equally did not regret the journey that had led him here. He turned his head slightly and caught Merlin’s eye, grim but determined. He chose. He chose to believe in himself.

“What is a King but First among equals, a knight among other knights. And what is a Knight but one who defends the helpless, supports the weak, fights for justice.” 

Arthur sighed. “I choose to be a Knight” he stepped forward to the side of the little girl and put his hand on the hilt of Excalibur. 

“If you take this child” he said “You come through me” 

 

There was silence in the Hall. Dimly Arthur was aware of Gwaine, Percival and Gareth, hands on the their swords pushing through the crowds to his left. To his right he could see Lancelot, face grim, giving him a quick nod. ‘So few’ Arthur thought. ‘I have condemned them’ 

The King spoke “This is treason” he said softly. “You understand what you are doing?”   
“I am believing in myself” said Arthur   
“Guards!” the King’s voice was cool “Arrest the Prince” 

 

Two guards moved from the back of the Hall. Arthur turned to meet them, pulling Excalibur from her scabbard. “I do not wish to hurt you” he said “But I am sworn” 

The guards moved slowly and through the corner of his eye Arthur saw Merlin lift his hand towards them. With his shield hand he grabbed the Warlock’s wrist. 

“Please” he said in an undertone, his eyes never leaving the approaching guards. “I must stand or fall by my own actions. Otherwise it is not real” 

For a moment Merlin’s eyes clouded but then he nodded slowly and lowered his hand. Then the guards were beside them, swords drawn.   
“Sorry” said one guard and with a sudden lurch he punched the other with the hilt of his sword and moved to stand beside Arthur and Merlin  
“I guess I’ve chosen too” said Robin. 

 

With that chaos descended.  
Arthur was aware of his four Knights joining his circle – facing outwards, swords drawn. Merlin swooped down and picked up the child, sobbing now in the confusion. All through the Hall, the sound of swords leaving scabbards and women screaming in the rush to leave filled the air. Around the King there was a thick phalanx of older knights, swords drawn.

To Arthur’s surprise, Sir Lionel broke ranks and joined the circle beside Gwaine but no other knights joined them, though many stood back from either side. Scuffles broke out among the guards at the doors as they too chose. 

“Well” said Merlin “This is...”.   
Arthur risked a glance at him “When you can, take the child and get out, and Merlin? Stay out” He tried to put all of his authority into the whispered order  
“Ngh” said Merlin.  
“I’m serious” said Arthur “If you use your power to help me, then win or lose Camelot will never be mine. Get out, stay out” Arthur heard the echo of his words to Merlin more than two years before and the thought almost broke him. More than anything he wanted to turn to Merlin, to look at him, to let him know how much he meant to him but he was working on instinct now and his instinct was screaming danger and his eyes would not leave the threat. 

“I understand” Merlin’s voice was warm but Arthur could sense the strain beneath the words. “I won’t intervene with power but I promise nothing else. You do know I am the worst servant ever when it comes to orders?” With that he saw a gap in the crowd before him: holding the child to his shoulder and bent low he made a dart for the door. 

 

After that things got messy.

Arthur reflected as he fought, that a crowded Great Hall was not the best site for a battle. There was barely enough room to swing a sword without striking a friend and the fight was a mixture of a tournament melee and a particularly vicious tavern brawl. Arthur also thought that if he was planning to rebel again he would make sure he was wearing mail. This point was driven home, literally as he received a deep cut on his shield arm and saw Gareth, equally unencumbered with armour, fall beneath a sword blow. 

And suddenly Arthur knew with certainty that they were going to lose. They were too few, facing too many. He saw Gwaine, blood trickling down his face and recognised the knowledge in his eyes. This was the end. 

 

There was a sound at the door and the crowd trying to leave was pushed back by another force pushing in. Into the Hall poured the servants of Camelot, shouting to give themselves courage, wielding the tools of their trades as weapons. Arthur saw Meg, using a ladle as a mace, with great effectiveness, Dickon, showing that the edge of a bucket, swung with force, could equal a flail, Tom, towering above all, terrifying with a pitchfork, tiny Jinny, finding her Robin and using a bodkin to push through mail, many others Arthur knew only by sight. And Merlin. 

“I told you....” he began  
“Worst servant ever” said Merlin laughing. “Told you that”   
“Merlin!” called Gwaine. “if you’re going to stay, good idea to have a weapon” he tossed a dagger to Merlin who caught it surprisingly well and with one fluid movement used it to stab at Sir Lot, who was about to strike at Arthur. 

“See” said Merlin, “all that beating me up on the training field actually had a point” 

Arthur smiled but that was the only moment of levity in the day. Even with the reinforcements the struggle was difficult. A knight did not survive as long as Uther’s knights had done without being good at, well, surviving. They may have got used to good living but they still had their instincts and their taste for comfort gave them something to fight for. 

The battle grew bloodier, those who remained fighting for their lives. As he dodged a blow Arthur saw Merlin fall and with a cry he abandoned his fight to stand over the crumpled form, swinging wildly at any who sought to strike at the shape between his feet. 

 

He was in this position when Gwaine came to him.   
“Sire? Sire!,” he said “I think we’ve won” he grabbed Arthur’s arm and pulled it down. Arthur felt the battle fury leave him and he looked around the Hall. It was littered with bodies and the sound of groaning was everywhere. The remaining knights were submitting their swords to Arthur’s men and Arthur could see his father slumped on the steps of the dais. 

Arthur was aware of Gwaine kneeling beside him but he did not look down as a guardsman came over to him. 

“Sire, your fa... the ki.... the former king... still lives, what do you want...”  
“I will not have his blood on my hands.” said Arthur, “have his wounds tended and confine him safely” . He raised his voice, “Tend to all the wounded equally” he said. 

Gwaine had scooped up the bloodied shape from the floor and headed for the door. Arthur made to follow him but was stopped by a peasant with a fierce expression who asked what should be done with the prisoners. Arthur held up his hand for him to wait.

“Gwaine?” he called. Gwaine nodded, understanding everything that was not said.   
“And Gwaine, Butcher’s bill” said Arthur  
Gwaine nodded again. 

 

Arthur returned to business.   
“Confine them but treat them with respect” was the order. Almost immediately Arthur was called on to make more decisions. The town had to be secured, messages sent to the outlying villages, Leon and the other patrols found, the borders to be secured. For two hours Arthur dealt with one problem after another. At one stage a dark haired girl with kind eyes approached him. 

“Sire, your wound need tending too” she said.   
Arthur had bound his arm roughly to slow the bleeding but had ignored it since.   
“I have no time” he said.  
“I can do it here” the girl said. “ I have water and clean bandages and I am a seamstress so I can sew it if needs be, neatly too” 

 

Arthur nearly smiled. He sat down, for the first time since he had entered the Hall so many hours before, not even noticing he was sitting on the Throne.   
The seamstress sat beside him and cleaned his wound and then warned him that it would need stitches.   
“What is your name?” Arthur asked to distract himself.   
“Gwen, Sire” she answered, deftly using her needle.  
“Did you fight with us today?”   
“Yes Sire.”   
“Then call me Arthur. It is your right” he said. 

 

Gwaine entered the Hall and Arthur stiffened. The knight approached the throne slowly and for the first time knelt before his King. He did not speak.

“Butcher’s bill.” said Arthur “Knights?”   
“Percival and Gareth” Gwaine’s voice choked slightly. “Lancelot has a broken arm but he will heal.”   
Arthur’s face was impassive but he felt the blows.   
“Servants?”   
“I didn’t get all the names but Meg and three others from the kitchen. Two from the stables and six household”

“Get the names” said Arthur “it’s important”   
“Yes your Majesty” 

 

Arthur looked at him, knowing that he would have to ask: this would not be offered.  
“Merlin?”   
Gwaine shook his head. “I think he was gone before I picked him up” he said with a break in his voice.

 

Arthur had known it. He had known it as he saw Merlin in Gwaine’s arms. He had known it as he stood over him in the battle. In truth he had known it when he saw the sword thrust home. 

The man wanted to howl but the king stayed silent, pushing his head back to stop the traitor tears from appearing on his cheek. 

The seamstress leaned over to him.   
“He is worth your tears” she said softly. “Cry, Arthur”   
And the King cried in her lap.


	2. Love shall not

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was late when Arthur finally pushed open the door to his chambers. The fire was glowing and the candles were lit and Merlin was waiting for him.

There was still much business to be decided, allies to be met and praised, the injured to be seen and encouraged. Later there was respect to be paid, Percival, a gentle warrior, pure of heart, Gareth, so much promise denied, Meg, acerbic and kind, all of the others, their names now known, until at last... 

(We can move him Sire, to somewhere more fitting but he had said no. Merlin would be proud of his company) 

 

It was late when Arthur finally pushed open the door to his chambers. The fire was glowing and the candles were lit and Merlin was waiting for him. 

 

“You’re dead” Arthur said dully. “I saw you. I kissed...” (so cold he thought so cold)  
“Yes” said Merlin “But I’m magic”  
“Does that mean you’re not dead?” Arthur’s voice was devoid of any emotion. He wearily went over to his chair and sat down. 

 

“No. It means I am here, to do this” Merlin leaned down and kissed the King. 

His lips were warm and soft and real and Arthur stirred. He felt as if he was floating above his life and nothing was real.

 

“Is this a dream?” he asked, “Or was that” he pointed at the door “Was that the dream?”   
“Both are real” said Merlin gently. “You won, you are King, and I...”  
“You’re dead”   
“Yes” 

 

Arthur broke. This was too much. The warm body before him, holding him, the cold form he had left in the morgue, fused together and his loss pierced him. When he spoke his voice was strained with sobs.

 

“I betrayed him. I betrayed him twice as liege and as a son. And we have been punished. I have lost all that matters ” 

 

Merlin’s voice was soft as he spoke, “And your people? Did you betray them? Did he?” he dropped to his knees before the broken King. “You had to choose. You chose well. You will be King of the people not over them. I am proud” He paused for a second, his voice breaking, “You love Camelot as much as me. You love your people. Live for them. Be their King”   
Arthur groped blindly for Merlin’s hands “I thought you would be with me. When I became King. I thought you would be at my side” 

“So did I” Merlin sounded bitter.   
“It seems that Destiny intended for me to help you become the King, not be the King.” His voice broke. “Whatever way you came to the throne this is how it would have ended.”

 

Arthur pulled away in horror “You are the price of my Crown?” he said.   
Merlin shook his head “I don’t know” he said “I don’t know. I shouldn’t be able to be here and yet I am.”  
“Because of Magic? You live again?” asked Arthur hopefully.   
Merlin shook his head. “I made a choice. And the choice allowed me to...I steal time” he said. “I steal time from you” his voice was sorrowful, “only a few hours but... I couldn’t bear... I had to”  
“Take it” Arthur said, understanding. “Share it. Half a lifetime is better than half a life.” 

 

Merlin shook his head, tears beading on his eyelashes as he smiled. “Shh, My love, You will not have half a life. You will slay monsters and lead battles and be kingly and do all the things you ever wanted to do with Camelot. And you will build Albion and laugh and ... you will live Arthur. And I can protect you, you and Camelot. From magic. If anyone strikes at you with magic it will bounce back with all my power. My magic will stay with you Arthur, if I cannot. I can do that much” 

 

Arthur was desolate “That is not why I need you” he said.   
“I know” said Merlin softly. 

“Stay with me” Arthur pleaded  
“Just for tonight.” Merlin’s said softly holding the King’s head against his chest. 

 

Then, beginning a ritual that was a comfortable as breathing, Merlin began to undress the King, going through familiar actions, as he had done hundreds of times before, servant to his lord. 

 

As he worked he spoke, trying to make his voice matter of fact.   
“Your blood will give you a choice too, later. When your time is done, and hopefully that will be a long lifetime away, you will be offered a choice. To move on or to ascend to Avalon. If you choose Avalon...”  
“Will I find you?” Arthur interrupted.   
“I will find you. I always know where you are” smiled Merlin. He stood back for a moment, drinking in his king with his eyes. “For your sake,” he said “I hope that when it comes time to make the choice that you don’t even think of Avalon. That I will be as a memory, replaced by better ones. I want you to have a full life and move on if you wish” 

 

Arthur shook his head. Merlin was talking of a future, of life, but he could see only darkness. Before, he could Search, there had been hope in his pain. Now there was only pain. 

 

“I can’t do this alone” Arthur grabbed Merlin’s hand despairingly. “I need you”  
“You are not alone.” said Merlin gently rubbing his thumb down Arthur’s palm. He tried to keep his voice level to reinforce the import of what he said. “Outside that door are hundreds of people who would die for you. You have earned them, Arthur, you have shown them what a king could be, given them hope. They will live for you, they love you”   
“Not as you do”   
“Even as I do if you open your heart and let one in. Now come to bed.” 

 

Their love making was slow and deep, rooted in despair. They sought not to come but to stay, to feel the connection, to feel the presence of the other, to wrap themselves in each other and ward away the fear of loss.

 

When at the last they just held each other, Arthur gripped convulsively. “I can’t let you go” he whispered. Merlin smoothed his hand over the King’s brow and ran his fingers down the stubble on his cheeks.   
“Be happy” he said. “Move on, be whole”   
“And you?” Arthur said softly hearing the pain in the softly spoken voice.   
“I will always feel as I feel now” Merlin said and as he spoke his own grief almost overwhelmed him. Trying not to weep he said, “I am losing you too” 

 

“Then stay” Arthur said quietly  
I won't steal your life” Merlin sighed “But if you really need me, really need my touch, call for me. I will steal a little time.” He tried to smile. “I hope you never need me that badly” 

 

Despite his efforts Arthur fell asleep, Merlin’s head cradled in his arms, their legs tangled. When he awoke he was alone. 

 

Someone was knocking at the door. Merlin never knocked, Arthur thought absently. Putting on a robe he went to open it. He had not recalled locking it.

At the door was the seamstress from the day before, Gwen? She was carrying a tray.  
Confused, Arthur stood aside and let her in. 

“The whole castle if in chaos” she said. “No one knows what to do. I thought the maybe no one would have...” she hesitated then went on “anyway I brought you breakfast. You will need to eat. You have a kingdom to secure, Sire.. Arthur.”

Putting the tray down, she went over to the window. “Shall I open the curtains?” she asked. Without waiting for a reply she pulled the heavy material aside and light flooded the room. “It’s going to be a lovely day” she said. 

 

And death shall have no dominion.  
Dead man naked they shall be one  
With the man in the wind and the west moon;   
When their bones are picked clean and the clean bones gone,  
They shall have stars at elbow and foot;   
Though they go mad they shall be sane,  
Though they sink through the sea they shall rise again;   
Though lovers be lost love shall not;   
And death shall have no dominion (D. Thomas)


	3. Epilogue: The carnival is over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story ends as all story must.
> 
> But every ending is its own beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Say goodbye my own true lover   
> As we sing a lovers song   
> How it breaks my heart to leave you   
> Now the carnival is gone

He had let them go. He knew it was unwise and at first his anger fired him and he could have carried out the penalty of the law, but when he saw them standing before him he could not.

Her he could forgive most easily, though for many hers was the worst offence. But he knew that she had lived always knowing she was second best. He had tried. They both had. But she deserved more, deserved to be loved fully.   
His betrayal hurt more. He had been there at the beginning, before everything, when life was still.... But Arthur had once chosen love over loyalty so when his anger subsided he forgave.

They were all gone now. Lancelot had been the last. Some had fallen in battle. Some had gone on quests of their own. A few, very few, had taken manors and settled down, building lives for themselves.

Arthur had never felt so alone 

Entering his chamber, he called despairingly, as he had done a thousand times before with no response.  
“Merlin?” 

And Merlin answered. 

 

He came from the shadows, older, as Arthur was older and held his shivering king.  
“I let them go”   
Merlin smiled with his eyes and Arthur felt his heart warm at the sight.   
“I am glad” Merlin said “It was a good thing to do”  
“No Merlin, It is a sign of weakness. Mordred and his forces are waiting at the borders. A cuckolded king betrayed by his most loyal knight will be a rallying cry”   
Arthur nuzzled into Merlin’s arms.  
“I have failed Merlin, Albion will not survive my death. Even if I defeat Mordred, Albion will fall. The destiny we gave so much for will be gone” 

Merlin held him close. 

“I think” he said hesitantly “I think we got destiny wrong. I think it was never about Albion or uniting the kingdoms. I think it was always about you” 

Merlin remembered the boy he had first met, happy and confident, arrogant and brash, proud of his position, learning to be cruel because he could. Such a boy would have become a strong king, maybe even a king capable of forging a great kingdom. But he would have been forgotten as such kings are, relegated to the preserve of history. But Arthur was different, Merlin knew. His king had created something greater than a kingdom. 

“I think” he said again. “That in a thousand years people will still know the name of King Arthur. You and Camelot and your Round Table and your strange ideas of honour and justice and fairness will be remembered and all the details, the real pain and anguish will be blurred and changed. I think that was the point... maybe”   
Arthur lifted his eyes.  
“Stay with me”  
“For tonight.”

 

Later 

Arthur stood on the battlefield, Mordred dead at his feet. The battle was won but the kingdom was lost. Arthur felt his strength dissipate with the blood now pooling beneath him. He would stand as long as he could, to give his men hope, but when he fell Albion would fall. He handed his sword to the young knight at his side. Excalibur had played her part and Bedivere knew what to do. 

Through the noise and confusion he saw two figures, shrouded in cloaks, approach him.  
“Arthur Pendragon, King of Albion, Lord of Camelot, Knight of the Round Table, Now, at the moment of your death you are given a choice. You may move on as all mortals do into the place that is prepared for you, or you may ascend to Avalon, there to remain until time ends. The choice is irrevocable and immediate. Choose”

Arthur chose.

 

There was mist becoming rain, a lake and a green hill.  
And a voice.  
“Arthur?”   
“Merlin”  
“I told you I would find you”   
“Is this heaven?”  
“No, that was the other option. This is just me”  
“Sounds like heaven. Stay with me?”

“Until the end of time”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for making this sad. It was written during the summer before the trauma of season 5 and no matter how I worked it, this story insisted on ending this way. 
> 
> There may be different ending in another trouser of time and I would love to hear ideas. 
> 
> Please feel free to yell, rant, argue or otherwise complain.   
> I can take. I survived 5.13. On Christmas Eve.


End file.
